What of the Past?
by M. Pond
Summary: Camilla McEwan discovers the memories of a long forgotten team: "Torchwood Three 2008. Gwen. Ianto. Jack. Owen. Tosh." Contains spoilers for ALL of S2.
1. 2030 to 2008

**30th January 2030 **

Camilla sighed as she finally made it to the large storage unit. It was pouring down with rain and she was soaked to the skin but Jack had demanded that she go and drop off the last of Karl's boxes. They'd been moving them from his flat into the large unit for the past week and this was the final load. She stopped outside the door and began to place them on the damp ground while still singing along to the music that was playing in her ear. Of course it was so loud that she couldn't hear the man that was approaching behind her.

"Move your taste of your lips down monorail. Your toxic guns slipping…"

"Excuse me! MISS!" She jumped as the distinct welsh accent penetrated through her music. Jack always said that her classic noughties pop would be the death of her. The team always said that she'd be too wrapped up listening to Britney or Kylie to even hear a weevil approaching behind her. This seemed to just prove her point.

She yanked the invisible headphone out of her ear and turned to face the man who had just spoken. A man, who looked to be in late fifties, was stood just a few feet away from her. His hair was grey and thinning on top and there was clear evidence of a beer gut underneath the faded blue shirt that he wore. He appeared to be growing a beard that really didn't suit him if she was honest. It was his eyes that caught Camilla's attention the most though. Their colour was indistinguishable to her, not quite any shade that she recognised. On first glance they appeared to be green but there were elements of blue and grey and even purple – it was like every colour was present in his eyes.

She shivered slightly and averted her gaze so she was focused on his lips instead. She noticed that flecks of spit flew from his mouth as he spoke and she wrinkled her nose slightly in disgust.

"I was wondering if you needed any help." He gestured to the four overflowing boxes that were leant against the large entrance to the storage facility. "A young girl like yourself can't handle all that." She groaned internally. The last thing she needed was another man thinking that she was a helpless victim. That was how she had met Jack, defending herself against a perverted man that insisted upon helping her up to her flat and inviting himself in for 'coffee.' She smirked slightly at the memory before glaring at the man who was giving her a distinctly disgusting look. She wouldn't be surprised if he started drooling in a minute.

"I'm alright thanks. I can manage"

"No really, let me help." He strode past her and bent to pick up one of the boxes. A sudden burst of anger flared up in her and she harshly pushed him out of the way.

"I said to leave it!" She knew that her eyes had become black as they always did when she became angry. Her breathing was heavy and erratic and this time she held the old man's gaze.

"That's what that welsh brunette was like," he muttered quietly under his breath. "Refusing to let me help with any of the boxes. Her and that one in the suit did it all. Never did find out what was in them, wouldn't let me in. What are you lot doing in there? Every year or so one of you turns up with a different box. Never see the same one though, always a different person. Except for the man in the greatcoat, he's always coming and he never looks any different." He walked away from her, still muttering under his breath, but his last words ran through Camilla's head. A welsh brunette? A man in a suit? She knew that the man in the greatcoat was Jack; who else walked around in period military dress? All the team were aware of the fact that Jack never aged and never died. It had been a shock the first time that they found out – seeing your boss shot through the head and coming back is a bit of a surprise. However they'd all adjusted to it. They knew that he'd been in Torchwood for years, long before any of them were born, but he always refused to speak about it. They'd tried, hell they all had, but it was like drawing blood from a stone. He clamped up and refused to mention anyone who had been at Torchwood. But they all knew that sometimes Jack would come down here to lose himself in the memories that he never wanted to share.

Sighing, Camilla began to pick up the boxes, her mind still focused on the brunette and the man in the suit that the man had mentioned. There hadn't ever been anyone at Torchwood that she knew like that. She was the only Welsh person on the team, which was something that Adam constantly teased her about. And she was pretty sure that she wouldn't find suits in either of the boys' flats.

And that's when it hit her. It wasn't boys anymore, just boy – Adam. Karl was dead and he wasn't coming back. These were the last of his boxes and when she shut the door of the storage unit then it really would be goodbye. He'd been shot two weeks ago and had died instantly. There'd been no chance to say goodbye or to tell him how she had felt about him. And that really hurt. She'd loved Karl, had done for three years, but she'd never had the courage to tell him. Instead she'd been a friend and had had a laugh with him. She'd refused to let her feelings come out and now it was too late. He was frozen in the morgue alongside the other fallen Torchwood officers. He'd be there until…until Torchwood fell and no longer existed. And she couldn't stand the fact that there was no grave for her to lay flowers at or to talk to, just a door among many doors.

She took a deep breath and felt the tears run down her face. She had thought that she had long since stopped crying over Karl but it appeared that there were still tears there. She knew she wasn't the first to lose someone without saying how they felt, but it still hurt. None of the team could understand how she felt, not really. Adam and Sophie had each other and Jack…well maybe Jack had lost someone but he never spoke about it. Instead he locked himself away in his office, filling out paperwork and making calls to the Prime Minister. He spoke to the team, led them and joked with them, but he never really opened up to them.

She began to place the different boxes up on the shelves that had been assigned to Karl, desperately trying not to think about what was inside. She really didn't need to route through old memories that would just be painful. She needed to focus her mind on something else, anything that wouldn't make her want to cry all over again. The last thing she wanted to do was run back to her flat and hide under her covers, sobbing her heart out over Karl – the man who never knew that she loved him.

She pushed the last box up on the shelf and took a step backwards and took in the sight before her. She shivered slightly, though she was unsure whether that was due to the cold that was being blown in through the door or the fact that Karl's whole life was in front of her. There, in front of her very eyes, were the numerous boxes labelled 'Karl Bennett: Torchwood Officer 693.' Everything from his apartment and desk at the hub were in those boxes. An entire life was now stuffed roughly into cardboard boxes and it was unlikely to ever be touched or seen again. She shivered once more as she wondered about how many other lives were in here; how many other people's belongings lay in this huge unit. She turned and stared down the dimly lit corridor that was piled high with huge boxes, all named but never touched.

She turned to walk away before glancing at her watch. Jack wouldn't expect her back at the hub for another hour or so and she had always wondered what the draw of this place was. He spent so many hours in amongst the memories and she couldn't deny that she was curious about those who had come before her. There must have been so many – being a Torchwood officer was hardly safe. And that was when she made her decision. She would only stay a little while, just to see who had died in the line of duty. She wouldn't prod or poke, it was personal, but she just wanted to see.

'Louise Adams: Torchwood Officer 683' Camilla remembered her. She had been the medic when she had first arrived. She'd died less than a month later, killed by a weevil.

'Tom Rogers: Torchwood Officer 644.' 'Marcus Elk: Torchwood Officer 621.' 'Rebecca Holloway: Torchwood Officer 985.' The names were becoming less and less familiar the further she walked. There were names that she had heard once or twice but soon even those stopped. The names on the boxes became just that, names. It seemed hard to believe that these were once people who had done the same job that she had, fought the same aliens that she had. But the reality was that one day she would be here too, her life placed in boxes that no one cared about. And that made her shiver more than she had before. It scared her that one day she would just be another forgotten officer. Right now she felt special and important – she was part of Torchwood. But all these people had been too. They had all been a member of Torchwood three at one point and had fought just like she did. They were no different to her.

She was about to turn and walk away when something caught her eye. She must have walked through twenty years of names but nothing had made her stop until now. There on the floor was a piece of paper – a photo. Scanning to make sure that Jack wasn't about to jump out and berate her, she bent to pick it up. It was lying face down on the dusty floor so she could read the writing on the back:

"_**Torchwood Three 2008.**_

_**Gwen. Ianto. Jack. Owen. Tosh."**_

It was written in thick black marker pen that had failed to fade over time and the writing was a lot neater than her own messy scrawl. She turned the photo over, noting that it had been taken over 20 years ago, and gazed at the image that had been captured forever. The colours were slightly faded but the picture was practically as clear as the day it was taken. There were five people in the photo and they were all grinning at the camera. She instantly recognised Jack in the middle, not looking any different. However the smile on his face was one that she had never seen before, he looked genuinely happy. He had one arm draped across one guy's shoulder and his other arm around the other man's waist. From what she could tell his hand was resting on the man's arse. From the names she knew this was Ianto and it seemed Ianto was smiling flirtily at both the camera and Jack. The other man was grinning cheekily at the camera and judging from the Japanese girl's expression, he'd just made a sarcastic comment. She had one arm raised to hit him but her eyes were still focused on the camera. The last woman was smiling broadly at the camera and Camilla could easily guess that it had been her idea to take the photo judging by the way she was unaware of the chaos next to her.

And then it hit her where she had seen this photo before, Jack's bedside:

_"You need to sleep this off Jack. You're drunk," Camilla grunted as she tried to shove the captain down on to his bed. She'd been working late on a report when Jack had stumbled in. It was obvious from the stench of alcohol and the fact that he couldn't walk in a straight line that he was drunk She'd escorted him down into his bedroom and had successfully gotten his coat off. The challenge was just getting him to sleep._

_"Anyone would think you were trying to get me into bed McEwan!" he slurred as he fell down onto the mattress. As he fell his arm flew out and knocked a photo off the nightstand. He flopped down onto the bed and didn't appear to notice the fall. Sighing she bent to pick it up. It was an image of a group of five people, including Jack, who were all grinning at the camera._

_Before she had time to think he snatched it from her grasp and gazed at it._

_"They were the best team I ever had you know?" He was speaking so quietly that he didn't appear to be speaking to her at all but she stayed and listened. "Was never the same after them, I never let myself get close to a team again. I loved them…all of them." He stopped speaking and his eyes shut. A moment later he was snoring. She sighed and tried to remove the picture from his grasp but he clung to it tightly. She shook her head and walked out of the room, leaving Jack to his dreams of a long gone team._

They'd never brought that conversation up and she wasn't sure if he even remembered it. But she had. Sometimes she had wondered about the team that Jack had praised. And for some reason she believed him when he said they were the best team he had had. She didn't know why but something told her that they were the only ones that he had ever been close to. His smile in the photo said it all, he never smiled like that anymore.

She stared at the rows of boxes and she realised who they belonged to. The first set was labelled 'Gwen Williams: Torchwood Officer 581' and she could guess that was where the picture had come from. Next was 'Ianto Jones: Torchwood Officer 574' and she couldn't help but notice that there weren't many boxes for him. Then there was 'Owen Harper: Torchwood Officer 565' and 'Toshiko Sato: Torchwood Officer 554.' She stood frozen in front of Gwen's boxes and struggled with the debate that raged inside of her. Could she really delve into these people's lives? She so wanted to know about the people that Jack had cared about and this seemed to be the only way. He would never know and she would never mention it to him. Plus it might help her deal with losing Karl. Throwing herself into someone else's life for just a short while.

She smiled slightly as she began to gaze through the boxes that had once belonged to Gwen. Most seemed to be filled with bits and pieces that had once decorated a house but then she found one that appeared to have once had been taped shut. The brown tape had been ripped away and then stuck back down but it was too old to seal it properly. The box was partly open and she knew this was the one. She heaved it down from the shelf and sat on the dusty floor with it open in front of her. It was time to see what was so special about this team.

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A/N: This was an idea that came to me when I was writing another fic yesterday. I thought about writing it and this evening the plot bunny would not leave me alone so here it is. They'll be one chapter for Gwen, one for Ianto, one for Owen and one for Tosh. If you have any suggestions for what should be in their personal box that really highlights their life then please tell me in a review.

I'll try and update this and 'Happily Ever After?' a.s.a.p

Please review – a freshly baked cyber chocolate cake for all who do.


	2. Gwen's box

I stared at the dusty cardboard box that was in front of me. Could I really pry into this woman's life? It felt so…intrusive. I knew that she had died years ago, her presence long since gone from the hub, but she had still been someone just like me, fighting to save the world and battling to stay alive. Yet however much I knew that is was wrong, a part of me just couldn't resist. For some reason this woman and the rest of that team had been so important to Jack and I was almost jealous in a way. Jack had never made the effort to bond with us or get close to us, yet here were the memories of people that had been precious to him. Well they must have been for him to keep their picture and to call them the best team he'd ever had.

I took a deep breath and with shaky hands, pulled back the fading top of the box. There was no cloud of dust like I had expected from a box that had been packed years before. I could easily guess that Jack had been through this box and the others recently. I couldn't really imagine him kneeling on the dusty floor, routing through Gwen's personal possessions. And that was when I screamed. In front of me was a person, well a person that was hovering. She was standing there and looked as real as I did. She had dark brown hair and a fringe falling just above her sparkling eyes. She had a round face and was displaying a broad smile, showing off the gap in her two front teeth. She looked young, only in her late 20s, but her clothes were dated. She was wearing a dark black zip-up hoodie and a plain white t-shirt, along with dark blue skinny jeans and knee high boots. No one dressed like that anymore; they hadn't in about 20 years. I knew that she hadn't been there when I'd arrived; the whole place had been deserted. But there she was, standing in front of me and grinning.

I glanced down and stared at the box. The girl had been in that picture and now she was in front of me. So either I'd brought a dead girl back to life or I was staring at a hologram. I pushed down the flaps of the box and shut it. The woman vanished and I was left staring at empty space - definitely a hologram. I pushed the box open once more and she appeared, filling up the empty space, the grin still on her face.

"Hi I'm Gwen Williams, Torchwood officer 581." Her welsh accent was easily distinguishable and her voice echoed through the giant warehouse. Her voice seemed so loud, ringing through the silence.

"What are you?" I asked, hesitating slightly as my eyes remained drawn to her.

"I'm a pre-programmed hologram. It was Jack's idea…or maybe it was Owen's. Nope definitely Jack's, only he would come up with something so ridiculous. He figured that we should create a hologram that could be stored when we died. Apparently it'll be able to respond to certain questions or something. I don't know. Tosh probably gets how it works but I haven't got a clue. Apparently Jack wants it so we can talk through the possessions in case they were important. Like anyone would be interested in the rubbish in my box." She laughed and I couldn't help but shiver as I thought about the fact that this woman was long since dead. She didn't laugh or smile anymore, instead her body was cold in the morgue.

"Oh right." I wasn't exactly sure how holograms worked; I'd only dealt with a few of them during my years at Torchwood. Could they answer anything? "So what type of gun did you use?" The hologram remained the same, simply smiling at me. Right so she could only answer certain things, brilliant. The problem was that it now felt even more intrusive raiding through this box, she was standing right in front of me. 'She isn't real. It's just an image,' a voice in my head muttered and I knew it was right. Gwen Williams, had died years ago and the image in front of me was simply a complex hologram.

I reached in the box and pulled out the first item. It was a velvet ring box, the deep red having faded over to time to a dusty pink. I opened it and gazed at the contents opened mouthed. Within the plush velvet were two rings – an engagement ring and a wedding ring. The diamond and gold sparkled and I stroked them, envious of the fact that I would probably never wear one. They were so beautiful and I could only imagine how happy she had been the day she had got them.

"Rings," I muttered and I waited patiently for the hologram to speak.

"I think I'd always known that Rhys was the one for me. I met him at college and he always made me smile, it was like we just fitted. Of course Jack was surprised when he found out about the engagement. I think part of me wished that he had told me that he loved me and wanted me. Of course that's just a fantasy, dashing hero sweeps the girl of her feet. But Rhys made me happy. We've been married over a year and I still find it strange to say I have a husband. I wouldn't change it for anything in the world though. Our wedding however…" She stopped speaking but I could see there was a hint of a smile on her face. I shut the box and dropped it into the dimness of the cardboard box. I could make out what appeared to be a wedding photo and so I pulled it out before laughing. The fact that she hadn't finished her sentence was now clear to me. Gwen was stood in her wedding dress, her body pressed against a man who I assumed to be Rhys. The two were staring into each other's eyes and it looked like the typical romantic scene. However both of them were covered in what appeared to be black blood and Gwen's hair was falling out from its stylish up-do. Her dress was too big for her and was sagging around the stomach while the train was ripped. Rhys had a gash on his forehead, which was crusted with dried blood. The two looked a complete mess.

"Wedding photo." There was silence before Gwen suddenly burst out laughing, the peals of laughter echoing around me.

"I think it's still too insane to talk about. But it involved alien pregnancy, a singularity scalpel, my wedding being crashed, retcon and a nostrovite." I had had a nasty dealing with a nostrovite but thankfully it had never had the chance to impregnate me. I could almost imagine the chaos her wedding had been and I could help but pity her. A wedding was supposed to be the best day of a girl's life and yet aliens had wrecked hers. I sighed and shut my eyes before pulling something out of the box. I had a feeling that potluck would be the best way to deal with this.

The hologram was silent as I frowned at what was in my hand – a voucher for jubilee pizza. Why on earth was that in her personal possessions?

"Voucher," I muttered, still gazing at it in disbelief. Did she have a fetish for pizza or something?

"Ah. It was Jubilee Pizza and Owen being a twat that led to me finding Torchwood. I'd seen them in a few places and me being the nosey person that I am, I had to find out more. I posed as a pizza delivery girl and went to deliver their food. Owen of course had been stupid and ordered under the name of Torchwood, which made it much easier to find them. Thing was they all knew that I was coming."

"Maybe it's because you weren't very subtle." Jack's voice suddenly rung out and I glanced frantically around to try and spot him. However the warehouse was deserted except for Gwen and me. Then I noticed that she was staring off to her side.

"Shut up Jack!" She turned back to me and grinned. "Sorry that was Jack – tends to like giving his opinion on anything." She giggled before the hologram resumed its usual trance-like state. I shoved the voucher into the box and pulled out a photograph of a young boy. He looked no older than 15 and he was grinning at the camera, his curly hair sprouting in all directions. It couldn't be her son could it?

"Photo of a 15 year-old." The hologram's face suddenly changed and became immensely sad. I could almost see the tears welling up in her eyes and I just wanted to reach out and hug her but I couldn't.

"That was Jonah." She stopped suddenly and let out a sob. "He was taken by the rift when he was 15 but his mum had no idea where he'd gone. She was so upset, I remember she used to record every football match and scan the crowd for him, just in case he was there. I tried to help her find him but when I did…" There were tears streaming down her face and my heart almost broke as I looked at her. She looked like she was in such a state of despair. "He'd ended up on a burning planet and he'd been rescued. Jack knew all about it. Apparently many people are taken by the rift but the majority don't re-appear." I knew what she was talking about. It had been getting progressively worse and yet there was nothing we could do to stop it. The ones that we rescued we took to an island just off the coast. But there was nothing we could do to help. "I thought his mum would be happy but when he started screaming…He screamed for 20 hours a day and it was the worst sound that I had ever heard. She hated me for what I'd done and I remember that she told me never to tell anyone about it. I just thought I was helping but instead I ruined this mother's memories of her son." She bit her lip hesitantly before resuming her original pose, the tears vanishing along with the despair.

I blinked, aware of the tears that were forming in her eyes. I'd never really bothered to think about the families of the missing people. We'd always been told to just deal with the people that were found. But the fact that there were still people out there who were mourning for their loved ones… I rubbed the tears away and took a deep breath before removing another object from the box. It was a screen cap from CCTV of all the team. It had obviously been zoomed in since I could clearly make them out. Jack was lying on a small sofa along with Ianto and the two were curled up together. Owen and Gwen were both resting against the sofa and Tosh was resting her head in his lap. All of them except Owen were fast asleep, and they looked so very peaceful. I smiled at it before I suddenly realised that all these people were dead and gone. I shook my head and looked up at Gwen.

"Team photo."

"That was taken the night that we managed to capture a whole bunch of weevils that were running loose in a town just outside Cardiff. We were all dead on our feet and passed out. Owen had promised to keep an eye on us and wake us up if anything happened. I remember Tosh volunteered to help him but he forced her to sleep. He was always looking out for us, even if he never admitted it." Her voice was tinged with sadness and I couldn't help but think that Owen was dead when she recorded this.

Biting my lip I placed the photo back in the box, taking care not to crease it, and I felt soft material brush against my fingers. Grabbing hold of whatever it was, I lifted it out and stared at the item in my hand. It was a tiny pale blue baby-grow and there was a small yellow duck stitched on the right hand corner. I smiled as I looked at it, already guessing why this item was in her box.

"Baby-grow." A shy smile formed on her face and she blushed slightly.

"I couldn't resist putting it in, I'm just so excited. Rhys and I found out last week that I'm 6 weeks pregnant and we still can't quite believe it. I know I said that I didn't want to have kids yet with this job and all, but now that I am pregnant I'm just excited. I'm convinced it's a boy and Rhys thinks it's a girl – I'm sure it's normally the other way around. I don't really mind either way, it's just the fact that we're going to have a baby." She stopped speaking and resumed her normal pose. However I barely noticed as I thought about the fact that somewhere out there was her son or daughter. Did they ever get the chance to know their mum before she'd died? Gwen sounded so excited and I could hardly bear the thought of her having been denied the chance to see that child grow up.

I sniffed slightly and began to fold the unworn baby-grow up carefully. I placed it in the box before I realised that there was nothing else. Photos, clothes and jewellery had been the most precious things to her and yet they'd all held meaning. I sighed and looked up at the hologram one last time. I had the feeling I wouldn't ever forget her face.

"Bye Gwen." She didn't move, instead just smiling at me. I pressed down the flaps of the box and pushed the tape down, causing the hologram to vanish.

The warehouse automatically felt emptier without her presence and I hurriedly placed her box back on the shelves before shuffling across to Ianto's. Now I'd found out about one I wanted to know them all.

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A/N: I'm so so so sorry that it's taken me this long to update. I have AS-Level exams next month (which I am majorly panicking about) so revision is taking priority.

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I promise to update a.s.a.p. Any suggestions for Ianto's box are very welcome. Please review :)


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